Countdown
by WinterGarden
Summary: Every number, from 10 to 1, has to do with Lily. A one-shot about Snape's life with Lily from beginning to end.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters!

Reviews are always fantastic :)

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><p>Countdown<p>

**Ten**

The number of times Snape's father hit him. His father was never a generous man. Never caring or kind. Always cold, unfeeling. Snape remembered every time he was struck. After the hit, his father would yell at Snape's mother. All Snape could do was wait it out, hoping that things would be better the next day. They never were. Until he met Lily.

**Nine**

The number of times Snape attempted to gather the courage to speak to her. The number of times he watched her and her sister. Lily's glimmering red hair would swing back and forth as she laughed. Snape somehow knew that one day, he would be that happy; as long as he was with her. He would smile like that, and she would hold his hand whenever he showed up with a new bruise. And he would be happy.

**Eight**

The number of times Snape tried, over just his first month of school, to impress Lily. He would work for hours on his spells, hoping to show her how brilliant he was. He read his books cover to cover, hoping he could supply the right answers whenever he was called on. He perfected every charm, every essay, every potion in the hopes that she would notice. And even after his failed attempts, Snape never gave up. Because he would do anything for her.

**Seven**

The number of times over the years that Snape and Lily got into arguments. Once in first year, over a silly test that Lily accused Snape of cheating on. Perhaps he had, but only because he wished desperately to win her approval. As the two friends grew, so did their arguments. He still remembered their final argument. "Mudblood." Why had he stooped to such a word? Why? What possessed him to call this beautiful, sparkling girl such a name? Seven times, Snape was disgusted with himself.

**Six**

The number of times Snape tried to tell Lily how he felt. Once in third year, as they sat in an abandoned corridor, watching the fourth years going to the Yule Ball, dressed in dazzling gowns and dress robes. He wanted to say that next year, he hoped to be with her. He tried in fourth year, and then a few times in fifth. But he could never bring himself to do it. He would always create excuses for why he had never asked the question, but Snape knew the real reason. He knew her answer. And he wasn't ready to let go of those lingering feelings of hope.

**Five**

The number of seconds that Snape could hold Lily's gaze without blushing and looking away. Every day, he tried for longer. Lily looked at him with a confident, glowing look in her eyes. When she laughed, she would look at him. When she comforted him, she would look at him. But he could never look back. He felt too ugly for her. Too much of an outcast, too much of a loser. For five seconds, Snape allowed himself to be taken to another world; full of beauty and acceptance. It was a perfect world.

**Four**

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. The number of names that ruined Snape. The number that humiliated him and stole the one thing that Snape truly loved in his life. The number that haunted Snape every day as potions master, every time he looked at Harry Potter's messy black hair and lazy smile. The number that tore Snape apart.

**Three**

The number of times Snape allowed himself to cry. The first time was when he was just a boy. He watched his father shout at his mother, and Snape could do nothing to stop it. He just sank to his knees in the corner, covering his face with his hands, hoping for the end. The second time was after his argument with Lily. "Mudblood." The third time was when he cradled Lily's lifeless body in his arms, rocking back and forth, back and forth. She had always comforted him. And he hoped to do the same in that moment.

**Two**

The number that Snape hoped he and Lily would be for the rest of their lives. The number that described best friends; who only needed each other to be happy. Snape would be proud when he walked next to her; the two of them walking down a corridor, chatting about classes and schoolmates. The two of them sitting by the tree near the lake, in a happy silence, watching the sun go down. The two of them. Best friends.

**One**

The number that defined Snape. One love. One loss. One lonely, miserable man. One dream that never came true.

One pair of eyes that Snape saw before his death.

**And then darkness.**


End file.
